Free first Chapter (unedited)

Chapter 1

or




Ceiling Fans of Great and Glorious Destiny










When Cliff joined Psychics Anonymous he was amazed at the fact that they held an introduction meeting. It felt just like the time that he wanted the Nonconformist Club in high school to start a union and they kicked him out simply for mentioning it.




Why, he asked himself would they need such a thing as an introductory meeting? Shouldn’t they have already known he was coming? As a matter of fact, after his first inexplicable happening in his new home wouldn’t it have been relevant enough for the psychic hotline to call him? The thought made him angry, but at the same time not being the brightest crayon in the box it somehow made him giddy. He decided that after four chilli corn-dogs with full nacho status, perhaps a better word was flatulent.




He sat in the back row brooding and listening to the teachers to the best of his limited ability. His “inheritance” had turned into a nightmare. The woman affectionately called Star that he had initially talked to on the phone had informed him that he was not living in a haunted house but instead he was ‘sighted.’




“Of course,” Cliff snapped, “I never claimed to wear glasses or be blind in any way. My vision is perfect. What has that to do with anything?”




“No,” Star had informed him, “Sighted means that you can see into other time spaces; other worlds hidden behind this one.”




As soon as she said that Cliff instinctively turned around to see if there actually was another world standing behind him. Upon seeing nothing but his coat rack given to him by his maternal Grandmother, he replied angrily, “Um dude, what kind of psychic are you anyway? That’s a coat rack not Jupiter.”




The line went quiet for a while until he finally heard, “Look, if you just come to a meeting we have teachers that can explain it better,” Star responded.




“What’s to explain? Nanna kicked it and my sister got $30,000 in savings and I got a coat rack and a money-pit of a house!”




“I don’t think sir … I don’t think that you understand fully what I meant. You can see things most people can’t. That means you’re probably psychic or sighted... teachers can explain it better and...”




“I already told you my vision is fine. What makes bad vision a pre-requisite?” Cliff argued.




“Um... one more time,” Star grumbled her voice sounding strained somehow, “Yes but you can see things that other people can’t. They aren’t capable of...”




“Hey! I’m not hallucinating if that’s what you’re implying. I’ll have you know I didn’t smoke the funny daisies when I was a kid. As a matter of fact by high-school I knew more about barnyard animals than anyone else in my graduating class!”




“I... what? I’m happy you became a veterinarian sir, but what I meant was...” Star began only to be cut off once more as Cliff snapped, “I didn’t become a vet or a farmer as a matter of fact they unjustly flunked me claiming the class was Geometry. I’m no dummy though; I can smell school-board politics a mile away!”




“Yeah. You musta been psychic or something. The meeting’s Wednesday,” Star informed him and since it was clear to him that she was finally seeing reason he decided to give it a go. He still wasn’t quite certain however, what she had meant by the last comment, “People like you are why I quit working in HR.” Since he didn’t know whether or not she was being snide he decided to take it as a compliment and prided himself on how very many he received in the space of a normal day.




So in the back of the hall he sat, forcing each word into his feeble brain wherein most words never actually took root but instead opted to do some vague form of interpretative dance at which point they travelled across to the other ear and bungee jumped out of his brain like unfortunate lemmings. The teacher was busy telling the members to memorize a prayer that would help them release their souls in order to have an out of body experience.




Since only two weeks before Cliff had been to a concert hall so filled with smoke he was pretty certain he’d had one already with no real side effects (unless of course you count that he had apparently parked his clunker in some old lady’s living room and proceeded to streak around her rose garden catching thorns in unmentionable places and singing “I Feel Pretty.”) Since he had not died from the experience, and in light of the fact that rather than calling the police the old woman had started sending him fan mail he figured he could simply tune out most of what the teacher was saying and still possibly catch the end in the event there might be a pop quiz or something.




Before he knew what had hit him, someone was serving cookies and punch. As his mind aimlessly wondered (okay limped) back to where it had been he realized the meeting was over and that though he had been there he’d missed most of the pertinent safety information. He decided it had been time well spent just the same because he had finally figured out the higher philosophical meaning behind the song, “Numa .”




So that very night as Cliff lay in bed wearing his sexiest pair of super hero footie pajama pants he half - awake, began to try to have his out of body experience. Since he couldn’t remember the prayer he substituted “Now I lay me down to sleep” but since that was the only line he could remember he hoped that God had taken notice that He was on-call and began trying to chant himself into a deep mental state. Only problem was that he had not actually listened to the chant itself, so he decided that something chant-like would do, and began instead to sing the words that he had taken the time to memorize earlier just for this event.




He coughed a few times for effect and began to wholeheartedly recite, “Lather, rinse, repeat. La-th-er, Riiiiiiiiinse... Reeeeeee-peat. Lather, rinse, repeat. La-th-er, Riiiiiiiiinse... Reeeeeee-peat. Lather, rinse, repeat.”




This however did nothing for his spiritual self other than reminding him that he was in need of buying conditioner. Which led to the question “Why exactly do I buy conditioner? And how do I know what condition my hair is in?” This led to other questions such as, “Why don’t they make like ... hair thermometers or something so you know if your hair even needs conditioner?” and, “When I get an MRI why doesn’t the doctor ever show me a scan of my hair?”This led to other questions of, “Why did the teacher in algebra class force us to look for Y? Was he trying to teach us the philosophical meaning behind the ABC song? And if Y was missing how come I could still spell the word cry? Like was Y on vacation?” And this led to a light snore.




The thing about Cliff was that his memory in dream was not great, but at the very least far superior to his thinking processes. it should have come as no surprise to him that in the dream world he pictured himself chanting words foreign to him in the voice of the teacher that gave the lecture. Soon he felt his soul rising out of his body. He felt light and very close to God or perfect or camel-racing or whatever. He loved the airy feeling and was very content. It was at that moment however, that he remembered the ceiling fan above him was on full speed.




He flipped himself to see the ceiling fan in a panic. He wished that he had listened just for a moment to the end of the lecture. This thought came too late as the ceiling fan moved closer. Once his soul was to the fan it smacked into the blades flying straight into the wall and slid down the wall into the laundry hamper which banged itself closed with a thud.




Somewhere behind his panicked thoughts he heard the voices again. They mumbled but once he focused on them instead of his plight he found himself dreaming of his grandparents. They stood in a dusty corner of his overly-haunted attic.




“We’ll never get out of here in one piece, Martha. The boy’s an idiot. I blame your side of the family really,” said Pops.




“Excuse me but it was your mother if I recall correctly, that kept dropping him on his head because it made him giggle. Beyond that he has never let me down. He gets it right on about the thousandth try! He’ll get us free. Why do you think I made clear in my will that he be the one to take care of the cursed coat-rack? I trust him,” Nanna said.




“Fine,” Pops grumped, “I have my concerns but while you are over there loving him unconditionally why don’t you use your time more wisely?”




“Gilbert don’t be such a clod. If you want something ask for it!” Martha growled in that, I may be dead but I still have PMS rights kind of way.




“Okay, I am asking you to go open the hamper and let him out,” Pops returned.




“You know full well I can’t do that. Leave him be. Once he relaxes enough his soul will return to his body. I do see what you mean about his listening and reasoning skills. A solid object can’t destroy a spirit unless it is willed so by that spirit. If he’d have listened he’d have known that,” Nanna sighed.




“It’s up to him now. In the morning we’ll try to contact him again if he isn’t stuck in the hamper. It’s really too bad he can’t hear us now.” Pops said exasperated.




“The living have too many hang-ups and distractions to be aware of those of us trapped here. Poor dear... he’s allergic to dryer sheets you know.” Nanna sighed.




“Then why does he use them? Pops groaned to which Nanna responded. “No idea, dear.” And as Cliff’s dream faded into something else, he began to relax. ***










Elsewhere in the house, unbeknownst to living and the dead, a colony of ants, termites and mice gathered at their weekly meeting of the “Basic House Unbuilders Association Now Affiliated With Cheese Lovers In Order to Bring In More Membership Dues.” looked at one another with awe and love in their tiny eyes. The prophet among them spoke his wise words, “This one can float above his body. He is a god or at the very least an angel. At any rate he has come to show us the miracles and the way to the land where food is plentiful and exterminators are banned. So we will write of his true greatness in a holy script that all might benefit from his wisdom! Also that will raise the fees again. All in favor?”




And so it was unanimously passed that the book be written and Cliff be named a Great Prophet Of Cheese.




And so it was written:




And he who was holy came upon them as from the sky. And unto them he showeth the great glory of the ceiling fan and leadeth them unto the unwashed socks and t-shirts to greater glorify the one true meaning of the sanctity of unbuilding homes.

And breaking ceiling fans in his wrath he did smite the unwise who looked only inward and knew not the greater glory of the Cheese. In this he is taken aback from those who art unfaithful and dost eatest the occasional coffee bean and Dandy Burger wrapper.

From such infidels he hath hidden his face;

And his grace doest hidest within the body odor of his sacred Jammy-pants and his green dress-shirt with the hallowed Chilli-dog stain upon it.

He makest them knowest his love for he hath thrown many crumbs unto them. Yet they that have disgraced him he hath smote with lint and fabric softeners to greater glorify the true meaning of the Cheese.

Amen




They ended the meeting humbly with their rendition of the hymn, “Numa Numa” and went their separate ways.